


Spaces.

by ifIsayIneedyouxx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Cussing, Fluff, Gen, M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, zouis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifIsayIneedyouxx/pseuds/ifIsayIneedyouxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is what it is. Louis is upset, and confused as are Liam, Niall, and Harry.<br/>He can’t wrap his head around it. His best friend, his partner in crime, won’t be around 24/7 like he’d grown so accustomed to having for the last four almost five years.<br/>They haven’t spoken since the statement was released to the public. Mostly because he really doesn't know what to say.</p>
<p>But Zayn’s his best friend. And if anything, a simple phone call and a half hearted insult is what’s needed to make things seem much better for all of them in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spaces.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all the directioners out there](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=all+the+directioners+out+there).



> It’s self explanatory. I wrote a fic because for some reason getting it all out in writing makes me feel better and reading it back I’m actually very proud of this one. It doesn't matter how many hits it gets, or how many likes this time around. I wrote this for me, and for my followers, and for anyone that needed a fic written about everything that’s happened.

“Just fuck off Harry. I don’t want to do this right now.”  
Harry just stood in the middle of their Jakarta hotel room, eyebrows knit in a tight line, arms out stretched, hair a right mess. And if Louis wasn’t feeling like such a live wire he would’ve collapsed into his favorite pair of tattooed arms, begging to be held together in a strong hold. But a cell phone was currently being held in Harry's’ hand that was attached to said arm. Thumb hovering over the call button, Zayns name shining up at him from the screen.  
“Just talk to him Louis. He’s been asking for you.”  
Louis shook his head for what felt like the thousandth time today.  
“Stop trying to fix this H. The statements up, that’s it. We can’t say anything about it. And I kinda like the idea of not saying anything. Finally we get to be alone for at least a few fucking blessed hours of peace.”  
Okay, that was below the belt, it even felt bitter saying it. But honestly, he hadn’t been on any social media sites at all since they released what management believed would be the best way to deliver the news to the world. And he didn’t want to.  
He didn’t even want to talk about it with the only three people who were going through the same exact thing. He just didn’t and it was childish he knew. But this, everything was happening the wrong way round, and it was going 50 miles per hour, and he couldn’t seem to catch up because he was too busy trying to get his own shit together.  
“Louis, don’t say that.” Harry’s arms falling to his sides defeated, his voice so inviting as it cracked to match his bloodshot eyes. “You’re not the only one dealing with this change. It’s going to be a hard transition for all of us, the fans included.”  
Accidentally snapping, “I KNOW-” god he hated this, he hated the yelling part. So he took in a shaky breath and looked down at his feet. Studying the chunky pattern in the carpet instead. Because he was a fucking coward and looking at Harry was too hard for him to manage at this point.  
“I know. I’m coping my own way yeah?”  
He could do this, he could escape and make a joke out of this whole situation. Harry would see right through him, but the sudden change in his attitude would stun him just enough to get out. So, Louis gave Harry a breathy laugh, which sounded so, so off, “Zayn understands that, so he’d tell you the same thing. To leave me be, okay?”  
Louis looked up and sure enough Harry’s face was one of pure confusion. But he’d only have a few minutes tops before he was caught in his act. So he’d have to make this getaway quick.  
“If he doesn’t, then just, tell Zayn I’m not around or something.”  
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew leaving Harry alone was selfish and stupid. But Niall and Liam were still hovering around, he’d find them.  
Grabbing his phone, and wallet, sending a text to Alberto to bring a car around. He shoved his bare feet into the nearest pair of Vans and started to make his way to the door.  
Harry had moved from the middle of their floor to the middle of the bed. Sitting cross legged and just looking so-no Louis wouldn’t go to him. Not right now. He didn’t know why but he just needed to be alone.  
Harry looked up at him from where he sat, shoulders hunched, “where are you going? We still need to talk about this.”  
Harry sounded like how Louis felt. Just so tired, and drained, and just terrible.  
“There’s nothing to say Harry. I’m going out, I’ll be back late so don’t wait up.”  
Motioning for Harry to stay on his spot on the bed, “no, don’t. I’m really alright, stop worrying about me. Take care of yourself instead.” Giving him a half hearted smile and a nod, Louis turned and walked out.  
Thumbs already tapping away on his phone searching for the closest place to get a drink. Knowing what some people would think if they were to recognize him, resorting to alcohol. Very mature. Louis let himself have a little laugh as “just how fast the night changes,” lyrics played off in his head. It was so true. He used to just go to one of the boys, or someone from the team if he needed a pick me up. But today was different. He didn’t want any of those things.  
Giving the elevator button a harsh jab.  
He honestly didn’t give the slightest shit what people thought, after the day he’s- they’ve all endured. So if he needed the welcoming, bitter taste, of a drink, the feeling of condensation cooling on his skin, to be the current only option since he meant what he’d said as he left a concerned Harry in the middle of their hotel bed. There’s nothing to say anymore. Not to the boys, or Jay, or his sisters, of Caroline, or even Zayn himself.  
He knew he was being a shit friend, and boyfriend, but he was done talking. Had been since the last meeting that they had as a group explaining the details on how they were going to go about dissolving Zayn’s contract.  
He just needed to be alone, somewhat. Still needed a bodyguard, but Alberto would just quietly sit until he was done and ready to pass out.  
-  
And as predicted, Alberto said nothing the entire drive. Louis wasn’t sure if that was as good of a thing as he’d thought. He could practically feel disappointment coming off of him in waves. Filling up the small confines of the car and making Louis’ skin itch under the thin cut sleeve top he’d chosen. Beginning to reconsider his desperate need for silence, Louis let his phone keep him from wanting to jump out of a moving vehicle.  
Last he’d checked he had well over 30 texts from everyone and anyone wanting to get something out of him. Way too many emails he wasn’t ready to reply to, let alone read. And Harry was calling. Again. Making that 19 missed calls now. None from Zayn though. Not yet.  
“This place’s supposed to be private yeah?” Louis questioned, keeping his eyes averted. Tapping a fake text to no one so it would look like he was actually very busy.  
“Yes. We’ll take you in through the back and there’s a seclu-”  
Waving him off, “yeah got it. That’s all I needed to know.”  
Louis cringed at his own rudeness but Alberto would get over it. So would Harry, so would the fans, so would their team.  
-  
By the time he got to the place, and had sat down in what Alberto had promised to be a very secluded corner, Harry had called him five more times before finally giving up it looked like.  
“You know, Louis-” Alberto leaned forward in his own seat, hands folded under his chin.  
“Save it.”  
He knew exactly what he was trying to do. Reason with him, compromise, talk. “If you’re going to try to get me to spill all my feelings like this is some sort of therapy session I can send you back to the hotel.”  
Alberto just mumbled something about getting them drinks, leaving him to sit and feel guilty for having even said that. They may be friends, very close friends. But Alberto still worked for him, he could if he wanted, send him off somewhere. He wouldn’t because he wasn’t an arse but this wasn’t how he wanted to spend his night. Crying over a drink because everything around him was falling apart and his best friend decided he was tired of “subjecting himself to something he couldn’t do anymore.”  
That was the worst part of all this. Having to hear Zayn explain to them, why. Why he needed to leave, how it was just too much, how he needed it for him, for his relationship with Perrie. How sorry he was. He kept repeating it to them in texts, at the meetings, backstage, “I’m so sorry.”  
Louis understood that doing something to please others even if it isn’t what you want in life has a time limit. Especially after ending things with Eleanor per management's permission. She was first and foremost his friend from the beginning. But after a while, their friendship went to more distaste.  
They resented each other in the end, and if another PR stunt was what had to happen to show the public press that they had been done for “weeks,” then he’d do it. Regardless of what it made him look like. They were both miserable, not just with each other but with everything in general. It had to happen. They needed to finish it.  
Eleanor went off to Los Angeles, got a tattoo. They texted every other week just to say hi. And Louis got to be “single.” Not really, he’d had Harry for years but they couldn’t go public with it. That was just fine with him though, as long as he didn’t have to go through another Elounor situation ever again.  
So he knew what Zayn was dealing with to an extent.  
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel like his heart was being ripped open when Zayn left without even giving them a proper goodbye. His best fucking friend.  
And Harry, sweet, wonderful, sympathetic Harry, telling him that Zayn was asking for him. God he wished he didn’t have to scoff and say “bull shit,” to that. Because if Zayn was really worried about him he would’ve called himself. He knew Zayn was dealing with his own drama but he would’ve tried to contact him somehow. And he hadn’t. Not in the past 48 hours, it’s the most they’d gone without speaking to each other, and it hurt.  
Louis started to feel it his third drink in. That nagging feeling, the itch, that he kept shoving down deeper every time it wanted to make an appearance. Lighting a cigarette, not caring if it wasn’t allowed. Even the toxic smoke that invaded his lungs and warmed his throat after every exhale did nothing to stop it. His lips feeling looser and his control waning.  
“It’s just that, he left. Like, he just woke up one morning and said, “I’m not coming back,” and fucked off like it wouldn’t bother anyone.” Louis sat back and slumped down further in the fancy lounge chair he’d hauled himself up in. Taking another drag and watching the smoke curl in the dim lighting above him.  
Alberto hadn’t moved since he sat down with their drinks. And he didn’t move now, almost like if he spoke or did anything to disturb Louis’ outburst he’d startle and stop talking altogether. Louis doubted it, the alcohol was in full control now. Downing the last few sips and chewing on a rum soaked ice cube.  
“I knew it was going to happen. I just thought, maybe he’d- Zayn, I’m talking about Zayn. He should have just stayed until the tour was over right? I was telling people.” Louis dragged a shaking hand through his hair as he realized. “Christ, I was saying he was going to come back and he was better. He ditched us. He fucking left. Left me to sit here like a pathetic fuck. Drunk. I’m-he’s never coming back, he’s gone and I just wasn’t ready. I wasn’t.” Louis’s voice trailed off because he’d said too much. Or, the rum, the rum had said too much.  
And Zayn hadn’t said enough.  
-  
Louis didn’t know how long he’d spent in the bar, or if he’d been spotted. He vaguely remembered some guy asking to have a picture with him. And a drunk Louis would always take a picture with anyone.  
And Alberto was there, solid, holding him up, keeping him from falling apart or from falling on the pavement, Louis wasn’t sure which. Reminding him with a “come on Tommo, you’ve got a flight to catch,” as he helped buckle him into the seat like a child. A useless, drunk- lost, he felt so lost. He wanted to cry but the time for that had passed.  
And Zayn still hadn’t called, or texted. Not a single thing. The silence was like twisting the knife that Zayn had shoved deep in his back the moment he said he “was done.”  
-  
A few knocks on the hotel door, and Harry was there. Ready to take Louis’ nearly passed out form from Albertos hands. Gentle touches and heavy sighs, that’s all Louis registered as Harry began to undress him on the bed. The room dark, the air conditioning buzzing from it’s place in the corner, his blurred vision keeping him from seeing the time on the cheap digital clock that sat on the nightstand.  
“You really should stop this Lou. You, resorting to, to this. You can’t.”  
Harry’s voice was barely a whisper. He sounded like he’d been crying for hours and Louis couldn’t help but feel like he was the cause for it. Harry sniffled as he pulled all of Louis’ deadweight up the bed, tucking him in under the cool sheets, and then sliding in right next to him. Drawing Louis’ limp body to his chest, holding him, arms wrapped tight around him.  
He wanted to apologize to Harry, say that he didn’t know what else to do. That he hurt, all over, his head, his chest. That he needed Zayn, that he needed him back. How scared he was now that everything was ending so suddenly for the five of them, but now they had to carry on as four and he didn’t think he could do that.  
But instead a sob he didn’t know he’d been holding in was ripped out of him. And then the dam broke and the tears came, and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t get any air in. He was so fucking scared.  
And Harry was there. Cradling him, rubbing his back, hands gently petting his hair, lips at his ear shushing him. Telling him he was going to be okay, that they were all going to be okay. But it did nothing to stop the tears that kept falling, or the choked sobs that were quickly becoming the only reply to Harry's comforting words that he could manage. He just wanted to blackout, that’s all he wanted and desperately needed. So he shut his eyes, and let the darkness do the rest. Knowing that when he woke up, and it was a little lighter outside, that Harry would still be there. And so would the boys.  
And that he’d have to talk to Zayn.  
-  
The plane was, quiet. The second Liam had boarded, looking puffy eyed, well they all had puffy eyes, he’d sat down and shoved his headphones over his ears. Looked out the window and hadn’t said a thing.  
Niall had shown up five minutes behind Liam. His cheeks red and a constant stream of sniffles could be heard from his place in the back of the plane. A sound that could be heart breaking even to the coldest, most uncaring person.  
Louis’ head was pounding, he’d asked their hostess, a nice looking woman in a burgundy uniform with a silk scarf wrapped neatly around her neck, for a paracetamol not ten minutes ago. He was starting to think she’d forgotten. So he just curled up against Harry’s side in frustration, hand fisting at the front of Harry’s soft cotton shirt that he probably got in the post from Francesca Bellettini herself.  
They hadn’t spoken of Louis’ breakdown at all. Harry was always understanding like that. He’d just helped him out of bed, picked out his clothes for him, and fed him hot cereal because he knew Louis wouldn’t eat all day unless he was forced. Stress always made his stomach turn to knots, making him feel nauseous all the time. His breakfast had been sitting in his throat all morning to be frank but he’d held it down. For everyones sake.  
And Harry just smiled, and kissed him all over, and cleaned him up like he hadn’t just had his chest covered in his boyfriends salty tears, and snot. God, did Louis love him.  
“Your paracetamol sir? I’m sorry, retrieving it for you slipped my mind. I do apologize.” The hostesses voice cut through the silence like a pin drop. Harry just closed the book he’d been reading, dog earing the page and set it aside.  
“Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”  
Turning to the side a little, Harry coaxed Louis out from his curled form. “Come on babe, this’ll help.” Bottled water in one hand, pain reliever in the other.  
“No it won’t.” Louis moaned but took it anyways earning another soft kiss to his cheek, and long fingers pushing his fringe back gently. He didn’t deserve it. But he’d still take it. Curling back into Harry’s side, loving the arm that was currently wrapped around him, keeping him close, tucking the blanket back in over his legs.  
“You’re too good you know that?” Louis hummed mostly to himself as Harry settled back down and opened his book up one handedly. Since the other was busy drawing shapes into Louis’ back.  
“And so are you.” Harry leaned over, kissing the top of his head before returning to the page he’d been on.  
Louis just shook his head, because no, he really wasn’t. Especially not this week. He’d been a nasty bitch storm and it wasn’t fair to anyone that got caught in it. And last night was the worst he’d ever gotten and hopefully if he tried, would ever get. He never wanted to resort to alcohol to have a good ugly cry ever again. It was awful and the guilt that came with it was even worse. Even with nurse Harry to help with the rehab part.  
“I should call Zayn.”  
“You should call Zayn.” Harry repeated, turning the page of his book like Louis hadn’t just admitted something huge.  
“After we land. I’ll, I’ll call him. I just need-” Louis stumbled over his words, talking was hard.  
A reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, “sleep Lou. You’ve had a rough week, figure out what you’ll say to him in the mean time yeah?”  
“But so have you. We’ve all-” He was being so selfish. They were all in the same boat, dealing with the same horrible, gut wrenching, loss. And he’d just ignored that and pulled the, me, me, me card.  
Harry just shushed him, rubbing circles into his lower back, “we’ll deal with it. Just rest. I’ll wake you in a bit, then I want you to eat something before you go back to sleep okay? For the whole flight you’re just going to sleep.”  
And who was Louis to deny Harry of that request? Especially when it sounded so inviting, his heavy eyelids already drooping.  
-  
He woke up when Harry needed him to. With a tuna, cucumber, sandwich and tea because he hadn’t had a cuppa yet. And he was feeling significantly better, his head no longer feeling like it was going to roll off somewhere. And it seemed that Niall and Liam had decided that cuddling was the better option somewhere during his nap. Instead of being apart.  
The pair of them were sharing earbuds, Niall open mouthed and sleeping on Liams shoulder. Probably drooling. And Liam just giving Harry and him a smile before going back to whatever he was typing away on his phone. Was probably going to be some sort of statement of his own to Tweet out. If anyone was going to say anything that wasn’t fueled by management it should be him.  
Louis had given Modest and their PR team full use of his Twitter account just for the day. He knew they’d say something generic. And the fans would know it wasn’t actually him, they always knew. Probably mention that they were still going to come out with another album, and add way too many exclamation marks.  
“How’re you feeling sunshine?” Harry asked, watching Louis take another small bite. His food sitting on it’s tray forgotten.  
“You should eat too Haz.” Louis frowned as he chewed, because it was his job to look out for Harry too. And he hadn’t.  
Nodding, “I will babe, just waiting for you to finish first.” Harry brushed some stray crumbs off of Louis’ lap, “you didn’t answer my question though.”  
“M’fine.”  
Harry gave him a disbelieving look, because that word had been over used and Louis was known for saying that word when he really wasn’t. So it came as no surprise that Harry didn’t take that for a real answer.  
“Try again Lou,” Harry pushed. A knowing look in his eyes, Louis’ favorite green eyes that seemed to see straight through him all the time.  
Sighing and sitting up a little straighter, “I think I’m okay. Like I don’t need to cry anymore. And I’m still kinda scared?”  
“Yeah I figured you were. And that’s okay, it’s okay to be scared.” Harry bumped his forehead against Louis’ almost like he needed the closeness just as much.  
“How are you? Ya know, feeling and stuff?” Louis muttered, leaning back a bit. Pretty sure his breath smelled like tuna. And Harry looked like he wanted a kiss, he wouldn’t care if Louis had garlic, onion breath. But still.  
Harry took a second to think, giving Louis a moment to take a sip of his tea. Which he swished around in his mouth hoping it would make his breath less fishy. Just in case.  
“I’m sad yeah, I miss Zayn like an unbelievable amount. But, we all do don’t we?”  
Louis nodded in agreement, waiting for Harry to continue. Their hands linked together, sitting in his lap.  
“But I understand why he did this and I’m proud of him for it. This job isn’t for forever, something had to change at some point. I wish it was done a little differently though. But like I said, I get why he couldn’t keep going even till the end of the tour. It would’ve destroyed him I think. And I’d rather see someone I care about in a good mental state than a bad one.”  
Louis let out a breathy laugh, “you’ve always been good with your words.”  
Harry just squeezed Louis’ hand in his, thumb brushing over his knuckles, “I like to think I am yeah.”  
Just then the intercom of their plane crackled, the pilots voice coming in clearly through the plane, “excuse me gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent, landing time roughly forty minutes.”  
Before Louis could even say anything, Harry was holding his phone up for him to use. If he wanted. “You could call him now.”  
Louis hesitated, biting at his bottom lip, the screen of Harry’s phone lighting up, his walpaper a picture of the five of them that was taken at their last show together. All huddling around Zayn. Making the loss feel that much bigger.  
That they would never do that again, like that, together on a stage, in front of thousands. Showing everyone how strong they are, or were. Louis didn’t feel like they would ever be that strong again. The five of them, holding each other up, with their voices and with they way they balanced each other out so well. It always had to be the five of them.  
And within seconds the phone was gone, leaving Louis to blink dumbly up at Harry. Not realizing that he’d spaced out so bad.  
“How about we wait until we get to the hotel okay? It’s alright Louis. It doesn’t have to be now, or today, or even tomorrow. Whenever you’re ready to talk to him I’ll have my phone out before you can even think where you’ve left yours.”  
Louis was so grateful for Harry.  
-  
“Hello?”  
Shit, Louis didn’t know what to say. He was feeling so confident ten minutes ago, and still felt just as good about it by the third ring. But once Zayn’s voice came through the speaker he just lost it. Like the balloon that was keeping his chest puffed out, had been popped.  
The four of them had landed, tried to make a quick exit through the airport. Niall still tailing Liam like a puppy, needing to be stuck to his side by the looks of it.  
None of them had really exchanged that many words. Just shrugs, and little, “it’s good that we’re back together,” sort of comments. Harry had been the third one out of the gate, his popstar persona still shining through as he signed a few posters that were being held out. Still doing his job even if it was a bit painful. Before he sauntered off with his guitar on his back, down towards where their cars were waiting.  
And Louis was last, he took longer to muster up the energy to walk out there where he’d feel everyones piercing looks and see all the pity on their faces. He wasn’t ready yet, it was too soon to have to face the people that got him where he was today. He’d let so many of them down, they all had, or at least it felt like it.  
Even though all the fans had been nothing if not incredibly supportive.  
He took a picture with a few girls that asked politely, knew the face he’d made didn’t look convincing enough. Before shuffling off to meet the other guys in the car. Ready to just get to the safety of the hotel and to find something to keep him distracted from the task ahead. There was so much to do.  
Rehearsals, figure out who gets which of Zayns solos, change their intro VT for the North American leg since they were missing a member now.  
And then he decided, while Harry was in the shower, that now was as good of a time as any to just call Zayn. Be the grown man that he was and just do it. And he didn’t even have a speech prepared, or questions that he wanted answers to. He just speed dialled 4 and pulled himself into the center of the bed. Legs crossed, and game face on.  
“Hello?” Zayn’s tired voice came through a second time, reminding Louis that he should probably say something to get the ball rolling.  
“Zayn, yeah. Hi, it’s-it’s me. Calling you. Today.” Well that wasn’t pathetic at all. Louis just goaned and fell back, head hitting the mattress, the inside of his elbow hiding the upper half of his face in embarrassment.  
“I have caller ID Tommo, I can see that you’re calling me. Took you long enough.”  
“Yeah.” Louis didn’t know what to say.  
“So, did Harry get you to do this or are you doing this on your own? Calling to talk I mean?” Zayn sounded so nervous on the other end.  
“No, this was me. I mean Harry wouldn’t shut up about it but, shit happened and I sorta realized that I was being ridiculous. So no, this, this was my decision because you’re right, we need to talk.”  
Was that a sigh of relief coming from Zayn?  
“Listen, Louis. I-I’ve said sorry way too many times for it to have any real meaning behind it. But you’re my best friend. Just because I’m going solo doesn’t mean we have to end what we are to each other. I know, it was terrible timing and that you’re upset-”  
Snorting, “I’m not upset about anything.”  
“Shut up Louis. Harry told me everything.”  
Traiter.  
“Regardless,” Zayn continued, cutting through Louis’ thoughts, “I just want us to be okay. And we will be, you know that but you just won’t admit it because you’re a dramatic twat and you love moping.”  
If Zayn was in the same room as him he’d flip him off, then shove him into the nearest wall, then hug him. But he wasn’t, which made everything feel like shit all over again.  
“I feel like shit.”  
Laughing, “So do the others mate, it’s not just you. I fucking miss you though, so much.”  
“Miss you too.” Louis mumbled, Zayn always made the worst things seem brighter.  
“So you’re going to get out there and move on like our beloved Queen does on the daily yeah? For me? You’re the ring leader babe, and I’m not far away.”  
They were going to be okay. Everything was going to be fine.  
“Aye, aye Malik.” Louis smiled to himself, fears of things falling apart disappearing after each joke they shared. Falling back into their usual banter like nothing had changed. Like there had been no statement, like Zayn wasn’t gone. And he really wasn’t, he was just not going to be singing with them anymore. And that was okay.  
“Listen, I gotta go, m’in the studio with Perrie right now. Caught me at a weird time, but I’m glad you grew a pair and called me. And you’ll call me again tomorrow right? Maybe we’ll facetime with the other lads yeah?” Zayn sounded so much more hopeful than he had when he’d picked up at the start of their conversation.  
Nodding, “of course yeah. Tell Perrie Haz and I say hi. And last I checked it was you who had to grow a pair mate.”  
“What? Fuck off Tommo, we both know who has the bigger ba-”  
Sing-songing “goodbye Zaynee-poo, talk to you real soon!” Louis made a kissy noise before hanging up. Always having the last word.  
-  
“Sounds like you two made up then?”  
Louis hadn’t even noticed Harry stepping out of their bathroom, big fluffy towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Hair slicked back, tattoos all out on display.  
Winking, “hello handsome. Where have you been all my life?” Yes, Louis was feeling much, much better.  
Hip cocked to the side, pink lips pulled up in an amused smile, dimple popping on his cheek, “I’ve been in the shower, surprised you didn’t join me. But it looks like you had an important phone call to make? Too bad.”  
Harry seemed to notice the change in Louis’ attitude as well, and he was clearly pleased with it. Playing along with Louis like the last 48 hours weren’t hell for the both of them.  
Harry just fell onto the bed beside Louis, wet hair and all getting the duvet soaked, including the sleeve of Louis’ shirt where Harry’s head was currently resting on. One arm draped over Louis’ stomach. Picking at the wrinkles of his top, making it ride up a little on purpose so he could brush his fingers lightly over the sliver of tanned skin that was exposed. Goosebumps breaking out, following the trail of Harry’s touch. Making Louis shiver.  
“You okay?” Harry asked, now playing with the tie on Louis’ sweatpants, twirling the black shoelace around in his hand. They’d been lying in peaceful silence for a while, Louis staring up at the ceiling, Harry touching every bit of him that he could.  
“Yeah, m’okay. We’re going to take it a day at a time, clearly without Zayn but I don’t think I mind all that much anymore? Zayn sorta got me to realize that.”  
Harry hummed in agreement, scooting closer to Louis’ side.  
“And what about you? You gonna be alright?” That was something Louis should’ve asked him days ago. And he still felt guilty for it. It was something he should probably ask Liam and Niall when they were ready too.  
“You’re my support system you know that?” Harry smiled into Louis’ shoulder. “So I’m only as strong as you are.”  
“Looks like I’ve gotta get my arse in gear then eh? Can’t let my boy down when clearly I’m your rock, the only thing keeping you-oof.”  
Harry lightly hit him in the stomach with a fist, making him puff out a breath and choke on his words a bit.  
“Would you stop?” Sounding more amused than annoyed, “I just meant that we need to stick together, all four of us. If we’re going to actually still enjoy this job. And you play a big part in that Lou. You really do.”  
“I think I can do that, yeah.” Louis laughed softly, “same goes for you Haz. You’re the one that got me out of the funk I was in.”  
“I know,” Harry joked, poking at Louis’ bellybutton.  
-  
Funny how things worked out with them. They could bicker, and fight, and disagree, but it only took a day for all five of them to realize that they were being dumb and that they loved each other immensely. So much that people on their team would gag at how mushy they could be sometimes.  
Zayn has left, he isn’t coming back.  
He did all he could, always keeping the fans at the forefront of his mind. Trying everything to not let anyone down, to be what everyone saw him as. To be their inspiration, to be what made them smile or swoon.  
Every show, every chord sung, he put his whole heart into it because he wanted to make people more happy than he felt at the time. Until he realized himself that he couldn’t lie to the people who made One Direction the most iconic group out there. He loves the fans too much to be so fake with them.  
And he had to be true to himself, because losing sight of who he is and what he really wanted out of life was becoming a daily worry. And he needed to take a step back and be with the people who understood the most.  
The fans would see that he really did try. That this is what he needed, and that the last thing that he wants to do is disappoint them.  
But Liam, Niall, Louis, and Harry, all support him and back him 100%.  
People being sad about his decision to leave is unavoidable but, he had to do what was best for everyone. And he did it knowing that it was the healthiest decision for him and for everyone around him. Fans included. Always.  
Zayn is on the roller coaster that is life, taking every twist and turn, ready for whatever’s thrown his way. All the boys are. Always up for the next adventure, and whether they’re doing it with miles between them or standing on stage together, they’re never truly finished.  
They will never not be something. They will always be the five boys on the stairs of the X Factor house, the five best friends, and the fans ot5.  
And they’re happy, that’s all that matters.


End file.
